


paradise with ice cream skies

by callmeroot



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F, lena just needs a hug and some ice cream tbh, the ice cream parlour au nobody asked for
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-18
Updated: 2017-02-18
Packaged: 2018-09-25 09:58:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9814418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/callmeroot/pseuds/callmeroot
Summary: in which lena luthor likes ice cream, but loves the girl who serves it





	

Lena’s not sure how she ends up here one day, the tiny boutique ice cream parlour that’s entirely out of place in the shaded back alley, but here she is. She’s blind to almost everything right now, exhausted, the workload of rebranding and running the company almost too much for her. Today has been… rough to say the least. A press conference about the company turned into a series of attacks on her family, question after question about Lex and her stance on aliens. Whether she hated them. Whether she was insane like her brother.

In a daze, she hardly notices the bell ring as she pushes the door open, barely takes in the girl serving her as she hurriedly orders the first flavour that trips off her tongue - vanilla - because she isn’t quite sure what’s she’s in the mood for.

When the young woman behind the counter hands her the little tub, there’s an extra second scoop in there. A light, creamy brown; definitely not vanilla.

“Excuse me, I think you must have got my order confused,” she informs her politely but she shakes her head and grins.

“Trust me on this. On the house. All of it.”

She eyes the girl with suspicion, can't help it; growing up with the last name Luthor did a pretty fine job at damaging her faith in the goodness of humanity. "Why?"

"You look like you could use some extra sugar. Is work tough?" She nods to Lena’s sharp business suit, pushing her glasses up when they slide a little down her nose.

All she gives as confirmation is a tight-lipped grimace.

"Don't wanna talk about it. Gotcha." She smiles, leans against the counter and Lena looks at her properly for the first time. A few strands of blonde hair have escaped from the girl’s ponytail, now loosely tucked behind her ears. Her smile is nice - more than nice, really, but Lena can’t find the words to describe the way it makes her chest hurt a little, her stomach fluttering. "Enjoy your ice cream. On the house."

Murmuring her thanks with as close to a smile as she's able to muster, Lena turns away, moves over to the long, thin, bar-like table spanning the stretch of the window and, her faith in humanity restored just a fraction, settles down with her ice cream.

It's the best she's ever tasted.

 

* * *

 

The second time she finds herself at the parlour, the sun is shining and the air humming. The whole city seems to quiver with satisfaction, aligning its mood to Lena's and echoing the smile on her face as best it can. A day off, finally, after the FDA’s approval of L-Corp’s latest prototype, an implant to alleviate the symptoms of Parkinson’s smaller, safer and cheaper than anything currently on the market. It’s only right that she celebrate.

With ice cream.

This place has been lurking in her mind since she visited, the delicious treat overshadowed by the memory of the woman who served her with kind eyes and a soft smile. Lena wants her to see her triumphant when before she was defeated, show her that maybe she’s worth the free ice-cream.

And she maybe wants to ask her out for coffee. But that’s not the point.

Her mind has drifted to the girl from the parlour frequently over the last three months or so. Her smile stands out, a clear bright beacon in the midst of her long working hours and the dark haze of hate yelled at her by protesters whenever she makes a public appearance.

Despite her daydreaming, it wasn’t until she pulled a tub of Rocky Road out of her freezer this morning that she thought to revisit the parlour. The whole situation strikes her as ridiculous now, as she turns the corner approaching her destination; the assumption that she’d recognise her and they’d start from there is a little absurd. Lena’s always been observant, her scientific mind storing away details, and it’s not often she interacts with people outside of L-Corp unless she’s attending a gala. Ice cream girl is an anomaly for her, a beautiful anomaly, but to her Lena is probably just another face, blurred into the dozens of others she must serve every day.

Lena pushes the door open and the bell rings.

The woman, the same one as before, looks up, back to the ice cream she’s scooping and then up again, a double take that lifts her lips, amused. Maybe she does recognise her after all.

The thought’s confirmed when she reaches the front of the queue. “It’s nice to see you looking happier! You have a lovely smile.”

“You remember me?” Lena blinks, pleasant surprise lifting her lips further.

“You’re not exactly easy to forget,” she says quietly, and Lena’s not even sure that she was meant to hear. She clears her throat, straightens up. “What would you like?”

She’s entirely distracted by the pink hue that’s risen over the woman’s skin in a blush, the tips of her ears the brightest. Adorable. “Uh. Raspberry ripple, please? In a tub. And I don’t suppose you remember what the flavour I had last time was, not vanilla-”

“One I threw in? That’ll be this then,” She gestures with the scoop to a flavour reading ‘Potato Chip Fudge’.

“No…”

“No?”

“Potato chip fudge? Really?” No way could it have been that. She has a sophisticated palate. She grew up eating caviar and foie gras. She does not enjoy dubious ice cream flavours that should not exist within the realms of logic.

“Hey, it’s our speciality!”

“On second thought, maybe I’ll just go for the ripple…”

The girl pulls a mock-affronted expression. “I am offended - you liked it last time didn’t you?”

“I’m not sure that - surely that can’t be what it was?” Lena crinkles her nose.

“I guarantee it was. Cross my heart and hope to die.”

Lena considers it for a second. “How about… I’ll try your… “potato chip fudge”,” she says, drawing out the syllables in distaste. “If you’ll get a coffee with me tomorrow?”

The girl’s face brightens, and then falls, and Lena’s stomach sinks. “I’m working all day tomorrow but… Saturday maybe?”

“Saturday works,” Lena agrees quickly. It will do, when she has her assistant do whatever it takes to clear her morning anyway. “Can I have your number - so I can text you about it? I’m Lena, by the way.”

The girl blushes and reaches for a napkin and a pen, scribbling down her number. “I’m Kara,” she says as she passes Lena the napkin. “And one scoop raspberry ripple, one scoop potato chip fudge in a tub, coming right up.”

Lena, carefully folds the napkin up before slipping it in her pocket, biting her lip to keep herself from smiling too much as she waits for her order. She takes it to go this time, and she lets her grin stretch wide as soon as she’s out of sight of the parlour. It only fades a little as she walks past a wall of graffiti, with 'BOYCOTT L-CORP' and 'SCREW LUTHORS' scrawled across it.

She has a date with ice cream girl. Kara.

(The potato chip fudge ice cream is really, really good.)

**Author's Note:**

> title from "memory of you" by iconic 2000s girl band girls aloud, bc i am composed solely of nostalgia and caffeine


End file.
